Pretty Trapped
by oxyblue
Summary: Inspired by Lady Antebellum's, "Need You Now." Clare can't get her protagonist out of the corner she's backed her into, and it's not unlike the trap Clare finds herself in these days thanks to Eli.


**A/N: My first. Inspired by "Need You Now" and my general angst with Eclare being broken apart. I own nothing and don't claim to have any rights to Degrassi or Need You Now. Please review, It's how I know if this worked. Thanks. **

"And I wonder if I  
>Ever cross your mind<br>For me it happens all the time

It's a quarter after one  
>I'm a little drunk<br>And I need you now  
>Said I wouldn't call<br>But I've lost all control  
>And I need you now"<p>

-Lady Antebellum

Clare shifted uncomfortably in her chair and raised her hand to gingerly rub the back of her neck. With a soft sigh she rolled her head back and peered up at her ceiling fan as it lazily clicked above her, a welcome relief for her eyes which had been straining to focus on the bright computer screen in front of her. Clare was transfixed by the fan's dark blades slicing through the air as she contemplated how to continue her story. She had been trapped in her room for hours desperately trying to wriggle her protagonist out of a particularly nasty fight. As she found herself stopping and restarting the story for the fifteenth time she realized that though she struggled to ever finish stories this may be one that never saw closure.

She stood up and slowly walked over to her window to draw back the thick blue curtain and was surprised how little the effort did to illuminate her dark room. The sun was a sharp sliver far off in the distance slipping below the dark blue sky. Rubbing her face with her hands she turned to flip on a light switch which helped to reveal the messy state of the cave she had hibernated in all day. Grimacing Clare began to gather scraps of paper and empty water bottles from the floor and descended her stairs to throw out the refuse.

"I wish I could throw the entire laptop in the bin as well," Clare thought bitterly as she rounded the corner to the kitchen. Looking at the pile of notes in the trash can she chewed on the corner of her lip and wondered if she should just scrap the whole piece. Though the silence in the home was a welcome change from her parent's arguments it served as a perfect jail house for Clare with bars of her own thoughts. She picked up the phone and started to dial the hotel number scrawled on a notepad resting on the counter. Pausing, Clare hung the phone up and tapped her foot before starting to dial again. Within three numbers she hung up and pushed the phone down the counter watching it slide to a halt against the fridge side.

"You don't need to call your mom over this. It's just writer's block. And she's hardly the expert on getting out of feeling trapped," Clare reasoned aloud to no one. She had begun to wonder if this was a symptom of her decline into psychosis as she had taken to talking out loud. With her parents at a weekend couples retreat, the walls had been the only companion to talk to. They had begun to betray her though, staring her down blankly and refusing to offer any assistance. In truth Clare knew why she couldn't finish this story. She had begun when Eli was still Clare and Eli. After the breakup she had abandoned the piece after only hearing his advice and praise in her mind, which led to one very broken mug of cocoa against the wall and a gash in her hand. Now four months later she had opened the file on a whim not recognizing it. The tiny seed of realization had formed into a full tree of frustration and repressed emotions over these several hours. Clare saw the protagonists unable to go forward or back and realized she could hardly maneuver her own life but certainly a made up one would be simple. She had even called Jake but had been unable to get anything helpful from him. He wanted to come over to distract her but with Clare living inside her head and rolling over old memories with Eli she didn't think that would go over well.

"The last thing I need is to show him how insane I am. I mean I'm not technically insane but I certainly am...once again talking out loud. To nobody. What is this?" Clare shook her head and contemplated how to proceed with her night. Once she realized her story was a painful reflection of her own splintered mind over Eli and her she couldn't imagine not working through it. She begun to manically type and delete determined to save her story and herself by putting the last period on her past love.

Clare stalked over to the fridge pulling out a bottle of soda before clamoring onto the counter and reaching for a bottle hidden in the corner cabinet above the freezer. Sitting cross legged she set the soda down and opened the glass bottle as she had seen her father do so many times. A whiff of the bitter and hot brown substance assaulted her nose causing her to cough.

"How would anyone drink this? It smells like bad decision...and homeless guy." The cabinet offered no reply. With a deep inhale she tipped the soda and whiskey into a large glass and quickly shoved it back in it's hiding spot before shuffling back to the floor. Her heart was racing in her chest. Clare had never had a drink even when she was trying to rebel against her parents. In a split second in an attempt to feel like she was moving forward in some way and possibly to justify her strange new hobby of conversing with appliances she decided she'd drink.

"If dad is any example, I won't be bothered thinking before talking or writing."

With a new found courage gripped in her hands she rushed back to her room and slid into her computer chair.

"Here goes nothing," she muttered and started to take large gulps of the mixture. Coughing and eye's watering Clare stumbled over to her balcony and spit out a little of the burning liquid. Staring up she took comfort in the cold night air and recalled how Eli would scale up the decorative siding in the garden to meet with her and look at stars. He would point out constellations and tell her absurd stories behind them until she would realize he was making them up. She'd pout until those green eyes that pierced into every pore of her would flicker between her eyes and lips and kiss her sorry. A new taste entered her mouth and with a start she realized she had bit down so hard on her lip a little blood began to pool on her tongue. Coming out of her memory she was shocked to catch herself smiling.

"Apparently booze makes you hate your ex less. Even if he's a sleaze two seconds away from making out with a hot topic advertisement in the hallways that... Maybe not." She took one last look out into the back yard before returning to her desk and finishing off her glass.

With the glass empty she began to slowly start typing only to find her fingers less able to recall how to use keys, let alone spell. Shaking her head in an attempt to clear up her focus she only assisted in making herself more dizzy and felt herself fall onto the floor.

"Ouch..ouch. I hate you floor, I hate you chair and I had you stupid moving desk." The items remained unconcerned and Clare looked down to inspect her leg for a bruise. Cocking her head she noticed a scrap poking from the desk.

"What are you doing here?" Clare inquired of the paper as she reached for it. "Cause I can't get you to the kitchen...your walking. And that's..." Clare reminded herself to breathe. It was a photo of them. It was a leftover remnant of the stockpile to burn and bury. Every item that remotely related to Eli had been shoved down into the Earth to rot with all the other dead things. As she studied the photo she began to wish she had buried herself. She was unable to move on with her life and here was the reason. She traced the face of her captor slowly and remembered how her mind would stop functioning if he got too close to her. Her heart would race and she'd become putty with one look. Now he was able to do it in the worst way from miles away.

"More liquor."

Clare was not sure how she would be explaining the large amount of missing alcohol next week, but she also wasn't sure how to walk properly, so prioritizing she dismissed that issue. She sat slightly swaying glancing through notes and old im conversations saved on her computer. Carefully she turned over every sentence wanting a clue to what would get her out of this. The clock downstairs chimed with one solemn bell startling her. She had no idea it had gotten so late and with her mind racing with thoughts of Eli she didn't know when she'd sleep again.

She didn't know why, but she had to reach him somehow. She wanted to touch the inside of his brain like she used to, but she never wanted him to know. As she looked at all the words dancing front of her and the photo she tacked up on the corner of her screen she let quiet sobs escape her body. Tears for him and her and for the fact he undoubtedly never finds himself thinking of her. Let alone drunkenly crying over loving her still, if he ever loved her at all. He was the crazy one crashing cars and chasing ghosts of ex loves with garbage. She was the sane one, the superior one that had to walk away from his progressive madness, yet here she sat deconstructed into mismatched pieces. Her insides knotted realizing she needed him more than he needed her after all. With a shaking hand she pressed in his number in her phone and called. Her heart began to thump loudly in her chest and she only let it ring twice before hanging up. Laughing and crying from nerves she stood up and stumbled to the bathroom.

"What did I do that for," she barked at her reflection. "As if being forgotten wasn't enough, I'm now the pathetic drunk dial who was too much of a coward to even say a word." Tears streamed freely now as her mind raced through every lopsided smirk, every time she pulled from a touch, every whispered secret or shouted affection. She slumped down on the cool floor and let her sobs go shamelessly. The echo against the tile was not enough to drown out the images or the voices in her head. She pleaded for her mind to stop the slideshow. She knew he was probably giving all of those memories to Imogen now, and she might as well be in the scrap with Morty. Though Clare wanted to die right now, she found sleep assault her first.

The morning light brushed across Clare's face causing her to shift in her sleep. Groaning a bit at the pain in her head she slowly opened her eyes surprised to find herself in her bed, poorly, but in it. "Though that was a magnificent feat in and of itself, I need about 50 aspirin," Clare thought. Sitting up she put her hand out to her desk and found two pills waiting for her. Clare furrowed her brow, "Drunk Clare is the nicest, most helpful Clare of them all." she muttered and congratulated herself for thinking ahead.

"Not to defame the character of Drunk Clare, but she's actually a giant pain in the ass."

Clare jumped and felt her stomach turn over as Eli walked over to the edge of the bed.

"What are you doing here?" Her mind was racing, had she called him back? Had she humiliated herself? She wanted to throw up or run away but with her sanity already on shaky ground she decided to just furiously inspect her cuticles.

"I don't know. I was walking most of last night and found myself laying in your yard making up names for stars..." Eli murmured.

Clare dared to glance up and felt her world spin worse than last night as she got caught in a stare with him. He was too close and this was too confusing. She forced herself to tear away and brought her knees to her chest.

"But now you're in my room..."

"I know. I shouldn't have and it makes me look crazy, but I saw your light on and then I heard weird noises so I came up. I just got you in bed. No real talking or anything."

Clare blushed and started chewing on her bottom lip.

"Turns out St. Clare can drink like a sailor and takes serious issue with sleeping in beds when there's perfectly good bathroom floor lying around," Eli continued.

Clare shifted under his scrutiny and glanced over with horror at her open laptop revealing the relationship excavation she had done. He followed her glance and reached in his pocket.

"I'm sorry, I was just looking at it," he confessed while shoving the photo into her hand. Her hand tingled when he accidentally brushed her skin and she sucked in a quick breath to calm her heartbeat.

"Thank you for helping me even though I don't have any recollection of it, but you don't have to stay now." The finality and pressed nature of the comment shook Eli and he stood up to leave with a shaky breath threatening to betray his calm demeanor.

"No problem then."

"I am ripping that garden siding down," Clare mulled bitterly and fought back the sting of tears. Why was he back and why did he lie? He had to have come over because of the phone call and God knows what he overheard. She watched him slip quietly towards the door and then turn around suddenly.

"Just one more thing I promise. Writing partner thing." Eli paused waiting for her acknowledgement. Clare scrunched her face in confusion, but her silence cause him to press on.

"The problem isn't that the protagonist can't get out of some impossible trap. The trap is that she thinks she can only go back to the past, or push forward to some foreign unhappy future." Clare felt her stomach clench as the world of the story became the background to her own life.

"Those are what are impossible. If she lets herself take the good of the past with her she's making her own future and not taking what someone says she should have. You're losing the heart in the story, that's why it's flat" Eli rushed and then slipped out the door.

Clare closed her eyes while her mind reeled. She stood up to gather up the remnants of her evening and her "heart" which she guessed was near the whiskey bottle or in Eli's pocket, but as she walked to her desk she found herself shakily gather speed. Clare pushed past the door and grabbed Eli by the shoulder. He jumped and quickly turned to face the disheveled blue eyed girl in front of him. Clare looked at him before reaching up to pull his head to hers and gingerly kiss him. El lifted her chin up and deepened the kiss. As the morning sun began to peek out above the trees and dance onto the house it illuminated the young couple entangled on the balcony. After a few moments Clare broke the kiss and looked at Eli for his reaction.

"I will gladly drag drunk Clare anywhere if this Clare is there every morning."

Clare blushed furiously and pulled him into her room.

"I don't need that. I know how to get out of the trap without passing out in various bathrooms. I just have to ask if you want to be in this future with me?" Eli pulled her into a hug and began kissing her forehead gently.

"I said forever, I meant it," Eli whispered.

Clare steadied herself as she realized what she was getting entangled in again and all the work that would lay ahead. "I'm so glad I called," Clare murmured seeing that her mistake was thinking she was the only one still in love. That and drinking her body weight in alcohol. Eli furrowed his brow.

Clare smiled, "I mean drunk Clare made the phone call. If she hadn't I would never have gotten out of my trap." Clare pressed small kisses to the side of his neck and felt him hold her tighter.

"I lost my phone a few days ago."

Clare pulled back and peered at him in confusion.

"You were on my mind like usual and I lost control and came over..."

Clare silenced him with a kiss realizing she found the end of her story.

**O.k so first fanfic. May have been rough, but thanks for sticking it out with me. I needed them back together more than a normal human should need anything out of fictional characters. Please review.**


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